Stranded
by Alex-DeLarge
Summary: Fan fic written for my friend, starring her!


The island was deserted, as far as she could tell. Palm trees swayed with the ocean breeze and waves lazily crashed on the shoreline. The sun was almost at its highest point on this clear day, but the heat wasn't anywhere near sweltering. It seemed to be perfect. The only problem was Lindsay was stranded here without a way back home. Even as perfect as the island seemed, it was not too pleasing to be here against her will. The captain and crew of the last ship she sailed on simply did not take the news well that she was in fact a woman. Off the plank she went. Bastards. Lindsay sat in the sand, still in drag, with her knees to her chin, hugging her legs. Her hat had come off in a gust of wind. She let it go, playfully bouncing down the shoreline. A lone seagull cried in the distance as she pondered her fate. What would she do for food?

"I had better make a fire." She rose to her feet. "Maybe someone will see it."

Lindsay picked up her sword that the captain "let" her keep, and tied its sheath back onto her belt. Most likely there would be the task of chopping wood. The sword should work, even if this wasn't what she had in mind for it when it was bought. Lindsay grinned and roughly drew the sword. It made a pleasing "shhhhing" sound when withdrawn. She jabbed at imaginary Navy men and did exaggerated moves with her feet, looking like a pro-swordsman. All she ever wanted was to be a pirate, and her birth status was preventing this from happening. She sighed and sheathed the sword with a "shhhank". Maybe there were some fallen coconuts from that bunch of palm trees in the distance. She forgot about the fire and stepped into the grove.

"Yes!" A few coconuts were scatted about at the bases of the trees. "A strike of good luck in a phase of bad luck is still good luck!"

As she went to gather the fallen fruits her bare feet stuck something and she tumbled to her hands and knees.

"What in Gods name…?" Lindsay looked down and saw she was kneeling on a wooden board of some kind. "Is this… Is this a hatch?"

She felt all along the sides of the wooden square and dusted sand off the top. There were two hinges on the side.

"It is a door! What could possibly be out here…?" She dug her hands under one side of the splintery board and lifted. It slowly opened and sand poured in the passage. It was dark in there. What _was_ down there? Lindsay poked her head inside and looked around. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"Oh my…" She immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, to keep herself from shouting. There was a man sleeping down there. She was sure he was asleep… or dead.

"Oh my God!" She whispered. "Is he dead?" No, he was breathing, and heavily at that. Lindsay was still on her knees at the edge of this… cellar? She did notice a lot of bottles around the man. Maybe it was a cellar. Lindsay gasped. I know what this is, she thought, I've heard about this. Rumrunners. That man must be a rumrunner for bootleggers. Her eyes widened. Could he help? Lindsay popped her head back into the cellar. The man was sprawled out on the floor, both hands each clasping an empty bottle. Oh that's it, he's drunk! Lindsay snickered at the drunken man, she was afraid of this guy? No way.

"Hello?" Lindsay quietly called out. The man didn't even flinch. "Heeeeellllooooo?" She shouted louder. This time the man rolled over and scratched his bare chest, dropping one of the empty bottles.

"Hmmmm." Lindsay was intrigued by this fellow. She decided to climb down and wake him properly. She slowly took step after step on the creaking wooden steps until she got to the bottom, halting every once in a while when she heard his breath hitch. Now she stood directly over him. He didn't seem like too much of a threat. There was a sword over in the corner and a pistol lying near that. If the man got hostile she could easily take him out with her sword.

"Uh hehm hehm." She cleared her throat. Immediately the man shot straight up and dropped the other bottle he was holding. Lindsay was not expecting this sudden abruptness and fell backwards clutching the hilt of her sword.

"Wot? What! The rum was already gone!" The man looked around wildly; his long dread locks whirled over his shoulders, tiny trinkets in his hair jangled about. His dark chocolate eyes searched the area, only to come across a surprised young woman sitting next to him.

"I am so sorry!" Lindsay tried getting to her feet as fast as she could. "I didn't mean to wake you... well, I did... but..." She wrung her hands in her shirt and looked at him shyly. The mans face was so... intriguing. She didn't know what it was, but she felt he could help her. The man just stared at her, not moving, (save for his constant swaying) and squinted his kohl covered eyes in the darkness.

"I was on a ship that abandoned me because I was a woman and then I came to this island, I thought I was alone here but then I tripped and... and..." Lindsay took a breath of air and sighed. She was rambling like a moron.

The man pushed up off the ground and, with few wobbly moments, stood. His body still swayed, most likely from the rum. "Calm down luv." He waved his hands at her. "Now how did you come upon this island?" His eyebrows raised, and he placed his tanned hands on his hips.

That man's voice was provocative; robust and strong. Lindsay was taken aback. "I was thrown off my last ship. I kind of need some help." She shrugged and looked back at the man.

"Striking." The man stroked his stubble in thought. "As was I."

"Sorry?" Lindsay didn't know what he was referring to.

"My ship. I was decommissioned as it were." The man took a step towards her and wavered, his hands moving of their own accord it seemed. "Mutiny ay?"

"Aye." Her voice was sad as she lowered her head.

The man glanced around nervously. "You're not an authority are you?" He looked her up and down as if to expect her change suddenly into a soldier of the British navy.

"No! No of course not. I'm a pi..." She stopped suddenly; maybe this man would turn her in for being a pirate. Ex-pirate. Well she was a woman; he probably wouldn't have believed her anyway. Again she sighed.

"Pirate ay?" His eyes seemed relived and a little fuller of life. "We have an occupation one in the same luv." He gave her a small wink.

"Really? I thought you were a rumrunner." She genuinely laughed. This man was a pirate too? That could be dangerous, but he seemed so pleased to hear that she was also a pirate.

"Oh that's my back up duty." He grinned and puffed his chest out a bit. "And business is going well as you can see." He picked up a full bottle from a crate and waved it at her before uncorking it and taking a swig. Lindsay smiled, now she could introduce herself and find out what this mans name really was. She stuck out a hand.

"Lindsay, formerly of The Sea Wench." The man looked questioningly at her hand then took it in his own. Lindsay saw a tattoo of a bird flying over a sunset and a scar in the shape of a "P" on his forearm. East India Trading Company, those damn blackguards! He smiled broadly at her, showing a few golden teeth.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, The Black Pearl."

**To be continued...?**


End file.
